


For you

by ChocoNut



Series: Many ways to say I love you [17]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post Season 7, Post-Canon, fluff and confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-26
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-12-18 05:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18243284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoNut/pseuds/ChocoNut
Summary: Just as they're about to step into their first battle together, Jaime faces a bout of low self-confidence. Brienne tries to pull him up.





	For you

It was time, but Jaime was nowhere in sight. Wondering where he could've gone, Brienne decided to try his tent, and that was where she found him, pacing around like a restless lion. “What's bothering you?” she asked, anxious to find out what could’ve caused his abrupt retreat to solitude.

Jaime turned to her. He looked worried, the creases on his forehead even more prominent since he had arrived North. “This is the first time we’ll be fighting side by side on a battlefield, wench.”

She had to hide a smile. No matter what cares or concerns he had, he’d never miss a chance to call her _wench_. While it had annoyed her at the start, she had gradually begun to get used to it and had even become fond of him addressing her like that. It felt like their own little secret, something personal to just the two of them, a special name she had that only he had the right to use.

“Yes,” she said, recalling another very different conversation in the same context. “Remember the last time we spoke about meeting in a battle?”

A smile graced his lips, wiping out the concern lines from his forehead. “You were worried about fighting me. It was honour against--” he stopped, leaving whatever he was about to say incomplete.

_Respect, friendship, regard for each other and most of all… love,_ she thought, desperately wanting to confess to him about how she felt. But now was not the time. This was war, and the heart had no place where death and bloodshed ruled. Wanting to give him a few words of comfort and encouragement, she came closer. “You haven’t answered me,” she said, her eyes meeting his. “What bothers you now?”

The smile was gone, replaced by the worried frown again. “This might be the last we see of each other,” he murmured with a sigh. “At times I feel…” he faltered, hanging his head, dropping his gaze to the ground.

“Yes?” she prompted him to go on. It pained her to see him like this… the formidable lion with his spirits low and his eyes downcast.

“With my sword hand gone, I’m not even half as good as the rest of you. I’m worse than the worst squire,” he lamented. “I’m useless, a failure. One mistake, one wrong move and I’m worried I might let you down… let you all down--”

She reached out to him and took his hand, silencing him with her touch. “You’re a knight, Ser Jaime, don’t forget that for even one moment,” she told him in her usual confident tone. “There’s honour in you, and courage, and the will to fight. That’s all you need. That’s all we need.”

“If I die--”

Before she could control herself, her hand was on his mouth. “You will not,” she said fiercely, unwilling to think of such a possibility. “Make sure you live, Jaime, for yourself, and--” she blinked several times when she realized that she called him Jaime “--for _me_.”

He said nothing, but his eyes were on hers. Caught in his gaze, she subconsciously ran her forefinger along his lips.

“Wench,” he breathed into her hand.

Suddenly nervous about what she had just done, she took her hand off him and dashed away, blushing profusely.

+++++

“Brienne,” she heard him call when he entered.

She got to her feet, a little apprehensive of facing him after their interaction that morning before the battle. Tired and wounded, they had just retired to their respective tents. But they had survived the day, they were both alive now and that was what mattered.

Only when he approached her did she notice the nasty cut on his forehead. Unable to stop herself, she brushed his hair away tenderly, running her fingers over the bruise. “Haven’t you got that examined yet? ” she scolded him, irritated that a small wound such as this should bother her so much.

“It’s nothing, my lady,” he reassured her, his palm enclosing her hand, the suddenness of his touch catching her unawares. “Just a scratch.”

A long silence followed with neither of them saying a word. She jerked her hand away, embarrassed, and retreated to a corner of the tent. Not daring to look at him, she sat quietly on her bedroll.

“I came to talk.” He followed her, taking a seat beside her. “Thank you, Brienne,” he whispered, letting his hand rest on her knee.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything,” she replied, his hand sending strange sensations shooting through her.

“I have you, and _only you_ , to thank for everything, wench.” he said again, rubbing her knee affectionately. “Had it not been for you, I wouldn’t be standing here today.”

Her heart leapt to her throat, because of his praise or his touch, she didn’t know. “That’s very kind of you, but I did nothing.”

“You did everything my lady.” He turned to face her. “You’ve pulled me up whenever I’ve been at my lowest. Today, and that day when--”

Brienne needed no effort recollecting that fateful day. “I was pretty harsh with you that day,” she said, red faced when she remembered the conversation between them, recalling that she had called him a coward when he had just lost his hand after saving her honour.

He shifted closer, his arm brushing against hers. “I deserved it,” he said with a hint of guilt in his voice. “Gods, I was such a pain in the ass then!”

She nodded, smiling at the memory. “You were,” she concurred. “But if it were not for you, I wouldn’t still be a maiden. I may not even have lived to see this day.” She shuddered at the thought of being raped and left to die. “You rescued me,” she repeated the words she had once told Cersei. “More than once.”

“Just as you saved me,” he replied in the same vein. “Many times.”

She couldn’t help wondering where this conversation was going, though she could make a guess. Surely he wasn’t here in the dead of the night to discuss their past. “Are we going to spend all night talking about what we did for each other?”

A playful smile lit up his face. “Do you _want me_ to spend all night with you, my lady?”

Not anticipating such a response, though it was typical of the Jaime she had known in the past, she coloured. “No, I mean, yes,” she fumbled with words. “What I meant was--”

Jaime didn’t allow her to finish, distracting her by caressing her thigh. “I lived that day because of you.” The smile was gone and his eyes were locked on to hers in an intense gaze. “And I’m here tonight, alive, _for you_ , my lady, just as you had commanded me this morning.”

There were no more doubts in her mind, and no more questions. She grasped his hand, wanting to hold on to it for now… forever. She didn’t need to tell him how she felt, just the touch alone sufficed.

“Since when?” he asked, playing with her fingers.

She lowered her gaze, never having given a thought to how, or when she had fallen in love with him. “I don’t know,” she replied with a little laugh. “Maybe when you stopped being such a pain in the ass.” She had to know as well. “And when did you--”

“I don’t know either.” His eyes fell on Oathkeeper that lay by her side. “Maybe when I gave you a part of me without even realizing it.”

He wrapped his arm around her, and she rested her head on his shoulder. They sat there finding comfort in each other, as if they had always belonged together. She looked up at him after a while. “Promise me something, Jaime.”

“Anything, my lady.”

“Never again are you going to bring yourself to think that you’re a failure, or any less than any of us.” She took his hand in hers, kissing his palm. “You’re important to us--” she blushed “-- _to me_. Promise me, you’ll never let go of life. You’ll survive, you’ll live. Today, tomorrow, the day after…” she fell silent, trying not to think about adverse situations. “For me.”

“For you,” he gave her his assurance. “But on one condition, my lady,” he went on, looking at her with eyes full of love. “Promise me never to let go of my hand, for life would have no meaning without you.”

Bringing her lips to his, she kissed him softly. “I promise, but on one condition.” she said, her voice choked. “Give me your word that you’ll never jump in front of a bear again. That was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

Jaime gave her a mischievous grin. “Oh, I might do that once more, wench, if it would make you fall in love with me all over again.”

She blushed deeper, burying her face in his neck. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“How the hell did you manage to fall for a man like me?” he asked, pulling her closer.

“The same way you fell for a wench like me!”

“No one calls you wench except me, wench.”

“You do know that’s not a very nice thing to call a lady, don’t you?”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop calling you wench. I love calling you that.”

“Fine, as you wish.”

“What would you choose, wench, Tarth or Casterly Rock?”

“What do you mean?”

“When we get married, where would you want to live?”

“Wait… we never spoke about marriage!”

“I’m speaking about it now, my lady!”

“Are you asking me to marry you, Jaime?”

“Yes, and I was also planning to ask you how many children you’d like.”

“ _Children?_ ”

“Ofcourse, wench, why’s that so shocking? I’d say a girl first, then a boy, then another girl, and then a boy, and another girl, and then maybe twins…”

“ _Gods, Jaime!_ ”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, wouldn’t more than two be too many?”

“Not at all, woman!”

They went on like this for a while, and before they knew it, they fell silent. Before they could contain themselves, they were undressing each other. Words turned into kisses, tender and sweet at first, and then hard, hungry and desperate, full of the passion that had been buried deep inside them for years.

Their bodies became one, and so did their hearts. He was hers and she was his, for tonight and for many days and nights to come.

+++++

Brienne woke up in Jaime’s arms, sighing contentedly as the first rays of the sun lit the tent. She smiled to herself thinking about last night. Spent, but content after their first time together, they lay wrapped in each other, talking for hours and pouring their hearts out, making sweet promises and saying things they had never in their wildest dreams imagined that they would say to one another. They were lost in their own little world, desiring nothing more than each other, planning their lives and hoping for a future together if the gods were kind enough to let them have one.

They had eventually fallen asleep showering each other with sweet little kisses, vowing that they’d never let go of each others’ hands, never to part until death decided to intervene someday. But today was not that day. And all Brienne could do, was hope that it wasn’t until they had lived a meaningful life together. Death in each others’ arms when they had grown old together, and in the midst of their children, all ten of them as Jaime wished, would leave them with a life well spent and no regrets when they went.

She kissed him softly, watching him smile in his sleep. She had been wrong earlier. The heart did have a place even where blood spilt, as love was the only ray of hope in the dark nights of the war. The end would come one day. But until then, they would live. _This_ was worth living for. _He_ was worth living for.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and your comments are always appreciated. Do let me know if you liked it!


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